


King Of Hearts

by lanalucy



Series: Turn Out the Lights [4]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Kissing, Secret Relationship, Sex Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanalucy/pseuds/lanalucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kara draws the King of Hearts and they play their game.</p>
<p>For Tel Nok Shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	King Of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to newnumbertwo {hugs} for the beta!

Lee opened his briefing folder as he approached the Ready Room.   _King of Hearts.  Hmm._  

Kara’s day was busy and she pretty much forgot about meeting him, but when she emptied her pockets at the end of her shift, she saw the note.   _Observation Lounge 2330 Wear as little as possible_.  She took the quickest shower she could and dressed in tanks and shorts and nothing else.  

When she got to the observation lounge, it was empty, and she wondered where he was, but the blackness behind the window drew her forward - all the ships of the fleet, the Vipers flying CAP, the stars in the distance - they were mesmerizing.  So much so that she didn’t hear him come in, was startled by the lips on her neck.  Her breath whooshed out.

His tongue played with the tattoo on the back of her neck.  He sucked lightly, then a little more, and she whimpered, “Unh.  Harder.”

He spent several long moments practically making loving to that tattoo with his mouth, until she was whining out _please_ with every breath.  He kissed his way across her shoulders, taking extra time with the spots that curled her fingers into the window.  As he did that, his warm, firm hands had smoothed up her back under her tanks, tightening the cloth across her breasts.  

He knelt enough to suck a trail down her back and across from one hip to the other.  His hands descended, so slowly, catching in the waist of her shorts and tugging them down enough that he could nuzzle his way down the rise of one ass cheek, and they fell when he let go.

She martialed her breath enough to ask, “Did you dog the hatch?”

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

When he answered “No,” she had to lean into the glass to keep her balance.  

“Gods,” she panted into the plexiglass.

He traveled to the other side, widening his mouth enough to bite into the edge of her ass.  He stood, his hands pushing her tanks up, then rose up her side with wet kisses until his nose nudged the side of her breast.  She lifted that arm and curled her fingers through his hair, trying unsuccessfully to pull him forward.  

She complained, “Aren’t you supposed to be kissing me?”

“I don’t remember anything in the rules about _where_ I have to kiss you.  Move your arm.  I’m taking your tanks off.”

“I’ll be naked if you do that.”

“I know.”  He palmed her breasts and licked over her tattoo again.  “I want you standing in front of this window in nothing but your skin.”

_Oh, my frakking gods.  I’m going to melt.  Before he even touches my mouth_.

“I can stop.  Is that what you want?”  He squeezed tighter.

The soft sounds escaping from her mouth as she lifted her arms were her answer.

“Turn around.”

On his knees again, he trailed his tongue over the skin of her belly, flicking it in and out of her navel.  He nipped at her hip bone and stood, leaning to run his nose between her breasts, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his stubble.  “Your thirteen minutes are up, you know,” he said to her collarbone.

“Shut up and keep kissing.”

He smiled into her neck.  “Yes, sir.  Kissing, sir.”

The next day, as her fingers caressed the bruises on the back of her neck, she squirmed in her rack remembering how they’d gotten there and thought maybe starting with the tattoo would be okay.  Sometimes.  As long as he finished with his mouth somewhere else.


End file.
